


Apricity

by PotionDaddy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed Severus Snape, M/M, Self-Harm, Severus Snape Has PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionDaddy/pseuds/PotionDaddy
Summary: Severus Snape is depressed. Remus Lupin is warm. The end.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Apricity

For a long time, Snape had found relief in the coolness of the dungeons, had almost revelled in it. It had layered a slight numbness over the ever present pain, over the guilt that seemed to drown out every feeling that was not hot anger. And if not that, it had reminded him that he deserved this, that he deserved the stinging cold. He had spent many nights in the dungeons, clammy hands twisting in cold white bedsheets, looking for something to hold on to when sleep took advantage of his exhausted mind, breaking his barriers, making him remember. It was then when he had silently screamed into his pillow, shaking from the tumult within him and the cool air in the room all the same. 

For some time, Snape had found himself entangled with another warm body at night. Warm hands on his back, his chest, his face—wrapping him in a blanket of heat and bliss, shielding him from the coolness daring to overwhelm him. He had focused on his heartbeat, strong and steady, giving him something to hold on to with every beat. Snape had known he didn’t deserve it, that it couldn’t last, but he had longed for his warmth nevertheless. Had craved the contact when he was deprived of it once a month, those nights when he had been forced to remember again until _he_ was back, exhausted and weary, but back next to him, brushing soft warm kisses over his neck. 

Snape didn’t know how long it had been since he was gone. He tried to go back to how things used to be, draw strength from the coolness, tried to tell himself that he had been prepared for this, prepared for the loss of warmth— _his_ warmth. It had slipped through his fingers like sand, impossible to hold on to. He had not been prepared. Every night the cold air hit him with astonishing force, taking his breath until the walls around him spun, making him remember again. He tried to drown out this new layer of pain, _just another layer_ , but somehow pain didn’t seem to add up linearly. He tried to cope. Cigarettes in those horrible morning hours during which no one should be awake, yet sleep is too far away. Blades carving thin red lines into shallow skin, drawing warm blood. It didn’t help. 

It’s been a day since he’s come back. Tentative fingers sliding over cool skin, old scars and new wounds, getting to know each other’s warmth again. Snape does not try to hold on. He still remembers, but now _he’s_ there. 

_This time I stay_ , he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2am and the original ending was very sad. My best friend made me make it happy, so I guess you'll have to thank her.


End file.
